When Booth heard the first shot, he immediately lunged forward, sweeping Brennan off her feet and slamming her into the ground. She let out a grunt as she hit the floor, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of her. Booth kept his head low. Heard the screams and the panic all around him. Prayed that Parker was safe outside.

At the second shot, Booth heard a sharp cry to his right and heard someone hit the floor. He chanced a glance across the floor and saw a man, already dead, splayed across the tiles. Brennan was rigid beneath him, her eyes wide and unfocused. He wished he could comfort her.

A third shot rang out and he heard someone laugh—a low, maniacal sound—then silence. He stayed quiet. He could feel Brennan's breath against his face, her fingers digging into his chest. "Do you have your gun?" she whispered. Her voice sounded strained.

"Of course I have my gun," he breathed.

She turned her head to the side and swept her gaze across the room. "I think they left."

Booth glanced up. "Where'd they go?"

"Maybe they bolted," she said. For some reason, he doubted that, but nodded anyway. "You should check it out."

His gaze snapped back to hers. "What? No. I'm not leaving you."

"Booth," she said, "if they're not gone, they could kill someone else. I'll be fine."

He was quiet for a second, deliberating. He knew she was right—he needed to call back up, do a sweep of the place, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her here alone. "Stay here," he said, finally. "Don't move. For anything."

Much to his surprise, she agreed almost immediately. "I won't," she said quickly. He raised his eyebrows, but definitely wasn't about to question her sudden decision to cooperate.

He got to his feet and pulled her up, ushering her over into a corner, away from the wide-open area of the food court. He noticed that her steps seemed stiff, labored almost. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly, flashing him a strained smile. "You should go. I'll wait here."

He paused and studied her face, trying to gage her thoughts. Then he gave a quick nod and pulled his gun, moving off around the corner and down the hallway, out of sight.

As soon as he was gone, Brennan let out a deep sigh, pressed her back to the wall and slide to the ground with a groan. Something was wrong—she knew it was. Every time she moved, a sharp pang radiated across her abdomen. She pulled her knees to her chest and curled forward, wrapping her arms around her legs, as another pain shot through her. She tried to take deep breaths, to stay calm. She knew freaking out wouldn't help, but she couldn't help it. She was scared. More than she could ever remember being. She squeezed her eyes shut, her body going tense as she felt another stab of pain.

She was so focused on her body, on the churning in her stomach, that she didn't hear the footsteps. Didn't notice the person that walked over and stopped a few feet away from her. Didn't even look up until he said her name.

"Hello, Dr. Brennan."

—BB—

Booth moved down the hallway in quick, sure strides, his gun cocked toward the ground. The mall was dead silent. It looked like everyone had escaped. As he peered into store after deserted store, he began to wonder if maybe Brennan had been right. Maybe the perp had thrown a few shots, gotten his jollies out and bolted. It didn't fit the bill—most psychos that shot up a mall liked to hold the place up for a while, play cat and mouse with the authorities, before either running or shooting themselves. It was odd that this guy was satisfied by only one kill, no mind games whatsoever, but he wasn't going to question it. He would head back to where Brennan was waiting and send word out to the agents he had radioed that the place was secure. Then he would go home, call Rebecca to make sure Parker was safe, and curl up on the couch with Bones and a movie.

—BB—

Brennan stared at the man standing over her. He was tall and lean, with strawberry blonde hair and a crooked, snarl of a smile. She knew she should be scared, terrified for her life even, but she was too focused on the life inside her, the life she felt slipping away, to be worried about her own wellbeing.

"Dr. Brennan," the man repeated, shaking his head, grinning. "I've been waiting for you."

"Who are you?" Brennan asked. Her voice sounded shaky and soft, lacking the usual command and disregard it usually contained around criminals.

"You don't recognize me?" the man said, obviously surprised. "I thought you of all people, Dr. Brennan, would be able to recognize my face."

She narrowed her eyes slightly and ran her eyes over his features. Traced the height of his cheekbones, the line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose. "Heather Taffet," she finally said. "You're her son, aren't you?"

"Bravo," the man said with a satisfied nod. "Joe Taffet, at your service."

She opened her mouth to speak, but was suddenly wracked by a searing pain in the pit of her stomach. She moaned, curling forward, and wrapped her arms around her stomach. "What's wrong with you?" Taffet said, annoyed by her lack of fear, her lack of attention.

"I think I'm having a miscarriage," she said, feeling tears spring to her eyes. She wanted Booth to come back. She wanted him to tell her it would be okay.

"Ah, yes," Taffet said. "Mother mentioned your condition. I was looking forward to killing two birds with one shot, but it seems nature is beating me to it." He sighed and glanced around, before crouching down to her level. He bent close to her strained face, so close that she could feel his hot, putrid breath against her face. "If only your boyfriend would hurry back so I could get on with the good stuff."

"How did you find me?" she asked.

He grinned. "I've been following you. Waiting for my moment. Waiting for the chance to kill you."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice cracking. She could feel the desperation closing in on her, seeping into her voice, her heart, her tears.

"You truly are brilliant, Temperance. Even I was impressed with your testimony, the evidence you conjured up. But you sent my mother to prison. I can't let that go."

"Yes you can," she breathed. "You can."

Taffet shook his head and stood up again. Paced back and forth in front of her. "No, I can't," he said, his voice loud and hard. "You took her away from me. You have to pay."

"Please, I'm pregnant. Please don't kill me. Please…" She knew it was irrational to try and sway him with emotion, to try and appeal to his humanity. She knew sociopaths operated within their own moral code, but she was finding it impossible to think straight, let alone figure out some clever way to escape.

Taffet sighed, staring down at her. "I'm disappointed, Dr. Brennan. I was looking forward to a rousing conversation, yet here you are, reduced to a puddle of hormones and emotions." He shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could let me go," she said meekly, hating that she was falling apart.

He laughed and patted her head. She flinched away. "You and I both know that's never going to happen."

—BB—

Booth rounded the corner heading towards the food court, already dialing his phone. "Yes, hello, this Agent Seeley Booth. I requested backup at 529 14th street. I performed a preliminary sweep of the place and found—" His voice died away as he entered the food court.

The scene in front of him made his heart skip and stutter in his chest. There was Brennan curled up against a wall. A man stood before her, gun in hand, staring down at her terrified face. He pulled his gun. "Drop your weapon," he said. His voice was low but carried across the high-ceilinged, echoing room.

The man turned. "Ah, Agent Booth. So nice of you to join us. I was just acquainting myself with the lovely Dr. Brennan."

"Drop your weapon," Booth said again, this time louder as he began to inch closer.

Taffet sighed. "No, Agent Booth, I'm afraid you'll have to drop your weapon." As he spoke, he pulled a second gun from his back pocket. He pointed it at Booth while keeping the other one steady on Brennan. "Okay? Now be a good little boy and slide it on over here."

Knowing he had no other choice, Booth swallowed hard and crouched to the floor, pushing his gun towards Taffet. It skidded across the tiles and came to a stop at his feet. "Very good," he said, smiling from Brennan to Booth and back to Brennan. "Your boyfriend is very cooperative," he remarked happily.

She didn't say anything, only turned her eyes to Booth. The terror he saw in them made his stomach turn, made the rage, hot and white, climb like shiver up his spine. "Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring Taffet. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Booth," she said.

"What do you want?" Booth asked, his gaze never wavering from Brennan's.

"What do I want?" Taffet repeated. "I want revenge, Agent Booth. I want payback. I want you to watch the woman you love die. I want you to lose her like I lost my mother when you took her away from me."

Booth was quiet for a second. He felt something stirring in him—an image, an old photograph he had seen when he had been poring over Heather Taffet's records. "You're her son, aren't you?"

"Bingo," Taffet said. "Very well done, Agent Booth. Now if you could just come over here and take a seat, we can get on with it."

Booth did as he was told, silently making his way over to the chair Taffet pointed at with the nozzle of his gun. "You should know," he said as he sat down, "that the FBI is waiting outside. I told them to come in. They'll be here any second."

Taffet laughed. "No, they won't. They're waiting for your signal, which you obviously haven't given yet. If you had, they'd be here by now."

"That's not true," Booth said. "I told them to delay so I could secure the area. They're coming."

Booth watched Taffet weigh his words carefully. He could tell he was trying to gage whether or not he was telling the truth. "You're lying," he said finally.

Booth shrugged casually, even though he was feeling nothing but desperation on the inside. "Believe what you want."

Taffet chuckled and Booth glanced at Brennan, hoping she would see in his eyes what he needed her to do. Taffet caught the look between the partners, just as Booth hoped he would. "Hey, hey, none of that you two." He shook his head and let out a low whistle between his teeth. "Very badly done, Agent Booth." He turned towards Brennan. "You're a bad girl, aren't you, Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan forced herself to smile. She hoped the strained curve she forced her lips into would look convincing. "Worse than you know, Joe," she murmured huskily.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, letting out a delighted laugh. "Well, I can see you're feeling better," he commented.

Brennan ignored the ache in her abdomen, the screaming fear in heart, and batted her eyelashes in what she hoped was seductive manner. "Well, hysterics didn't seem to work, so I had to try something else." She glanced up at him. "Is it working?"

Taffet grinned. Out of the corner of her eye, Brennan could see Booth pulling his phone from his pocket and opening it. "Well it certainly is much more entertaining," he conceded. "But I'm afraid it won't stop me from killing you."

"Can't blame a girl for trying," she said, as Booth began typing out a text message.

Taffet shook his head and tapped the tip of her nose with his gun. "No, certainly not." He pulled away from her with an appreciative smile and glanced over at Booth, who was just tucking his phone back in his pocket. When he caught wind of what had happened, Taffet exploded.

He lunged at Booth, shoving the gun in his face. "What did you do?" he growled at him. "What did you just do?"

Booth smiled down the barrel at Taffet's enraged face. "I gave the signal."

Taffet glared at Booth and turned around to reach for Brennan. Booth took the opportunity to charge, but Taffet was quicker. He whirled around and pulled the trigger, shooting Booth squarely in the chest. Brennan let out a strangled cry as Booth staggered backward, slumping to the ground. Taffet laughed a hoarse, wild laugh and grabbed Brennan, yanking her to her feet. He curled an arm around her throat and pressed the gun to her temple. "By my calculations I only have about thirty seconds to wrap this up. But that doesn't mean I can't still enjoy it."

Booth struggled to get up from the ground, fighting the dizziness, the nausea, that was descending like a black cloud around him. "No, please…" He crawled towards Taffet. "I love here, I love her…"

"I know," Taffet said. He cocked the gun. "That's what makes this so fun."

Booth dragged himself closer and collapsed at Taffet's feet, breathing raggedly. His blood was a dark puddle against the white tiles. "I'm sorry, Bones," he rasped. "I'm sorry. I love you."

Brennan took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I love you, too."

OK. I know that a lot of you probably just threw your computer against the wall and vowed never to read my story again. I'm sorry! I actually did not intend to end it here when I began this chapter, but it kind of happened that way. I also know that I promised a fluffy story and this chapter was nothing but angst. Sorry 'bout that. But I promise that all this drama and angst and sadness will be resolved in, like, the first two seconds of the next chapter. So don't worry. And don't be mad. Even thought I might deserve it a little…Lol.